Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925 / 2008-11-11 00:00:00

There he sat, red in the
red light, perfectly still, and staring without a blink of his eyes at
the furious ball of the setting sun, as an eagle is said to be able to
do.
Saduko advanced, and I walked after him. My stature is not great, and I
have never considered myself an imposing person, but somehow I do not
think that I ever felt more insignificant than on this occasion. The
tall and splendid native beside, or rather behind whom I walked, the
gloomy magnificence of the place, the blood-red light in which it was
bathed, and the solemn, solitary, little figure with wisdom stamped upon
its face before me, all tended to induce humility in a man not naturally
vain. I felt myself growing smaller and smaller, both in a moral and a
physical sense; I wished that my curiosity had not prompted me to seek
an interview with yonder uncanny being.
Well, it was too late to retreat; indeed, Saduko was already standing
before the dwarf and lifting his right arm above his head as he gave him
the salute of "Makosi!"* whereon, feeling that something was expected of
me, I took off my shabby cloth hat and bowed, then, remembering my white
man's pride, replaced it on my head.
[*--"Makosi", the plural of "Inkoosi", is the salute given to Zulu
wizards, because they are not one but many, since in them (as in the
possessed demoniac in the Bible) dwell an unnumbered horde of
spirits.--EDITOR.]
The wizard suddenly seemed to become aware of our presence, for, ceasing
his contemplation of the sinking sun, he scanned us both with his slow,
thoughtful eyes, which somehow reminded me of those of a chameleon,
although they were not prominent, but, as I have said, sunken.
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